


call me captain backfire

by archetypically



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, this is very very dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-19 00:22:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15498141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archetypically/pseuds/archetypically
Summary: Scott does a lot of dumb things. He wouldn’t deny that if asked, and, honestly, he’d freely admit it without evenbeingasked in the first place.This, right now, is the result of one of said dumb things.





	call me captain backfire

**Author's Note:**

> written off a prompt from [this list](http://bellamyblakesz.tumblr.com/post/111909165950/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you)

Scott does a lot of dumb things. He wouldn’t deny that if asked, and, honestly, he’d freely admit it without even _being_ asked in the first place.

This, right now, is the result of one of said dumb things: him, bringing sheets over himself in an attempt (a _really_ bad one) to hide his bare chest, while Hope stands in the doorway about five feet away, eyebrows raised so high that they’ve definitely disappeared under her bangs.

It’s – it’s a _long_ story, and he’s not even sure where to start telling it; actually, he’s not even sure where it actually _starts_. He _could_ start with the reason he ended up here in the first place (broken washing machine, laundromat that rips people off and is just completely unfair), but then, you know, that was because of Luis, who was there at the proverbial scene of the proverbial crime because of Kurt (not that this was actually a _crime_ , it’s just a figure of speech), and….

As it turns out, though, he’s saved the trouble of figuring that out, because Hope’s flat voice slices straight through his train of thought like the world’s actual sharpest machete. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

He can’t see them, but somehow, he thinks her eyebrows go even higher.

They’ve been seeing each other (sort of?) for about three weeks now, and if he’s honest, she’s… still kind of intimidating; she has this _thing_ sometimes (a lot) where she’s totally unreadable – neutral face, unnervingly blank eyes, the works. And if you get the picture, _that’s_ the sort of feedback he’s getting in this exact moment.

Not to state the obvious here, but it’s freaking him out.

“Your, um –” He swallows. Tries again. “I was washing some clothes, and I saw some water leaking out onto your floor, so I thought I’d check it out.” A pause; he’s still getting nothing from her. Great. “And when I did, the whole pipe just _burst_. Seriously, it just burst right there in front of my face! So everything got totally soaked.” _Still nothing_. “I was trying to dry my clothes off with your hairdryer when I heard someone at the door, and, you know, it could’ve been _Hank_ – who I _definitely_ didn’t want to run into – so I….”

He takes an arm out from under the sheet, and gestures aimlessly down at himself.

And then – the most awkward silence he’s ever experienced in his life settles in the room.

But just when he thinks it might actually last forever, Hope exhales a sigh, and bends down to rifle through the laundry basket he’d brought before tossing him some things. “Put these on, and then finish fixing my washing machine.”

He catches them in one hand, and offers her a smile. “You got it.”

All things considered, that went as well as it could have.


End file.
